


For Her

by Path



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-23
Updated: 2011-06-23
Packaged: 2017-10-20 16:26:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Path/pseuds/Path
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is as much for Doc Scratch as it is for Snowman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Her

**Author's Note:**

> For the Kink Meme, a fill for someone wanting Doc Scratch and Snowman playing with bondage and orgasm denial. I am half-afraid and half-amused, because I think they might have wanted Snowman doing the beating.

His thumb has been tracing agonizingly slow circles over her clit for what feels like an eternity, and Snowman would like to think she is qualified to judge exactly how long that feels like. His white glove is damp from rubbing her, and she has been effectively reduced to gritting her teeth and begging.

It is not a task she finds easy, having never engaged in it before.

But she has no other way of making him speed up, with her hands twined in the elaborate, beautiful, and extremely effective knot at her back. The rope climbs and crosses her arms and chest, and she admired it when he first guided her to the mirror. She wore one of her evening gowns and nothing else, and the ropes pulled it in against her chest, defining her breasts, nipples standing out against now-taut cloth. The white strands make star-patterns against her skin, dusky black as her gown, and the effect was breathtaking even for her.

Now she curses it, wrestling against the ropes, as stubborn as her lover, making approximately the same amount of progress with both. Scratch will not wipe that infuriating expression from his face, smiling at her desperation and gently admonishing her for it.

"Come now," he is saying, "by which I mean the phrase, and not the action, you can withstand a little more, my dear. You have endured so much through the years, surely you're capable of a little patience. All things will, ahem, come to those who wait." He gracefully does not engage in his equally-infuriating laugh.

He strokes firmly and with no variance in speed whatsoever down, off her clit and dipping a fraction of an inch into her slit. If it were anyone else, she might think it was accidental, she's so wet and dripping, but Doc Scratch is nothing if not utterly and completely intentional in everything he ever does. On occasion, though, he likes to pretend to have the margin of error others do. It is a sort of game.

"I do think you'll be ready whenever I am," he muses to her, affecting surprise at her. "You're so wet already, Snowman." She groans as he strokes a few times, up, down, up, down, and no amount of effort on her part can get his fingers further in. "Funny, I believe such foreplay is usually done for the benefit of the receiver; while I suppose you're still getting quite a lot from this, I'm not sure if you are really the one we're preparing here."

She tries to reply, but as she opens her mouth his hand moves, fingers pinching her clit and _twisting_ , and what comes out isn't the goad she'd intended but a long moaning howl.

"You're right, of course," he says, as if replying to some thoughtful comment of hers, "I know perfectly well."

With that, his hand vanishes, and she cries without that touch on her, even that infuriatingly slow touch that would not let her finish for the eternity he'd played her for. His hands instead clasp her shoulders, twisting her over. He had been lounged on the bed, looking as comfortably mild as he might if they were having tea and discussing philosophy, but now he sits upright and pulls her over his lap, tucking her long skirts up into the ropes. Her legs slip off the bed and she has the uncomfortable feeling of falling, but he's judged the distance correctly (of course), and her toes just barely reach the floor when she reaches. It is not a secure footing, but it is more than nothing, and she prefers a scant security over no control whatsoever.

Then he smacks her once, as if experimentally, leaving what she knows will be a print of his glove on her ass. She was not exactly prepared for it.

"Hmm," he says, as if he has not anticipated her cry, "it has been a long time since I have been on either side of this. Perhaps I had better find something to ensure I don't go deaf from my own ministrations." But it's not at all a surprise to him, of course, and he simply reaches over to where they'd flung her undergarments earlier. "Say 'ahhh', my dear," he says blandly, and spanks her again. The pain flings itself through her body and emerges screaming from her mouth, and is promptly stifled by the black panties Scratch slips into her mouth.

"Ah, now I can hear myself think," he says to her, and brings the gloved hand down on her again.

Her screams are muffled through his repetitions, though the fabric is tested when he repeats the exact amount of strokes on the other cheek. The pain is terrible, but she's beginning to feel the way it echoes through her, feeling it resonating inside her, and anticipating the next blow. She has long since lost count when he finishes, focusing only on the stinging aftershock coursing through her and the tears she can't stop from pouring down her cheeks.

But he doesn't move her. Surely he won't keep going, she begs, whimpering through the gag.

He doesn't. Instead, he gently pries her legs open and begins tracing a gloved finger over her slit. The pain doesn't go, but it begins providing a low counterpoint to slowly building desire.

This is what Doc Scratch does to her. He breaks her down step by step and slowly, methodically, rebuilds her.

There is still some breaking to go.

He gets her to the point where his fingers begin to slide along her, wetness dripping down her legs, before he slides a single finger in. It is still so slow, so gradual and barely moving, but she can feel the slow advancement, and writhes as her body demands more. He begins removing it before it's fully inside her, and she whines through the impromptu gag.

Slowly, slowly in. Agonizingly slowly out. Finally his finger slides into her entirely, pressing against her as if he is trying to bury it further. He removes it, and adds a second, repeating the entire process as she opens a little more. In... out... in... out...

She begins moaning, unstoppable and deep in her throat, as he moves to a third finger, and his speed begins to increase. He scissors his fingers into her and she cries and begs incomprehensibly and whines for more as she begins to tighten, her muscles seizing around his fingers and trying to keep him inside. Her moans turn high, but he is implacable, and begins to slow again. If she couldn't feel his cock pushing up into her stomach, she might think him entirely distant from this, but she knows he wants her, and it is the only thing that keeps her from losing her mind entirely when she trembles on the edge of orgasm and his fingers stop hitting into her. They're still inside her. He just refuses to move.

She tries to buck her hips into them, so close, so close, but he lays her free arm along her back, tips her just a little, and that single toe-hold she had on the floor is gone, leaving her with nothing to push against to rock into him. She is forced still, feeling her almost-realized desire churn and retreat inside her.

When it has died to an almost-normal level and she begins to feel she might be able to move again without coming, his fingers begin to pump her again. Beneath, his thumb rakes along her clit with each strike, rough wet fabric grinding against it. Her journey to the end is quicker this time, and it's not long even by her standards before he removes his fingers from her clenching muscles and waits.

Patiently.

She screams into the gag.

Then he slides out from under her and places her on the edge of the bed, feet well apart and just touching the floor, face into the blankets and incapable of seeing anything he does. But if she can't see him, her nerves are still stretched to snapping-sensitivity, and she can feel the instant his cock touches her. He slides it, still maddeningly slow, up and down her slit, stroking her again, just with a different tool. She doesn't know how he can be hard like he is and still control himself so thoroughly; she feels like her mind is already collapsing under the strain her body has been through.

Slowly, he enters her, and by the time he's buried himself into her, any remaining thoughts of dignity or self have abandoned her in the sole desire to finish, to have Scratch fuck her into oblivion.

He begins to.

Gloved hands wrap into the fabric at her hips and pull her back to impale her. There's no resistance; she's slick and wet and open for him, not to mention starving for it. She can already feel that deep aching desire coiling into her and clasping around him, and she's aware, through her half-mind haze, how hard he is already.

It takes forever for him to reach the speed she wants him at, but finally he is stretched above her, hands buried in the blankets on either side of her head, ramming her senseless and murmuring calm infuriating nonsense into her ear. At some point he removed the gag and she screamed with want since. She is clenching around him as he slams into her, more conviction in his movements than she'd ever attributed to him. Finally, as his length starts hardening inside her, she's coming, longer and harder than she'd ever thought possible, almost blacking out in the sheer relief and rush of pleasure.

Scratch keeps going, fucking her mercilessly and dragging her through with him. Snowman can barely hold onto some semblance of herself, but she's still deeply satisfied when Scratch lets out a low, barely-there moan and his hips shudder to a halt.

He pulls himself out at last, helping her onto the bed to recover before stretching out along it beside her. Snowman is in no shape to judge, but she thinks that, perhaps, his endless knowing smile might be a little shaken.

After all, this was as much for him as it was for her.


End file.
